


Milk

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 19:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16817080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: Your graveyard shift at the Gas n Sip gets interesting.





	Milk

It was late, and you fucking hated your job.

Too bad you couldn’t quit, seeing as it was the only source of income you had, and the meager minimum wage gig at the Gas n Sip was the only place hiring in your desperate times.

You were pulling the graveyard shift tonight, from 10:30 pm to 4:30 am. You hated the graveyard shift – in the part of town that your Gas n Sip was located, _no one_ was ever out in the middle of the night. You had half a mind to just leave – no one ever came to your store in the middle of the night, so no one would notice if you just closed for a few hours.

Why couldn’t you work at a Gas n Sip in a bad part of town, where drug deals went down or high school kids wanted to play pranks on lowly gas station employees? You’d give anything to be the brunt of a joke, or held up at gunpoint, or hit on by drunk losers – _anything_ is better than the boring tick-tock of the clock above your head.

You had already gone through all of the magazines on the rack in front of the counter. You had already mopped the entire store – twice. You even washed both bathrooms: they were sparkling clean.

1:37. That’s what the clock read.

Just a few more hours, you could do this.

Right?

You were rearranging the candy counter for the third time when lights shone through the glass windows in the front of the store. You turned, seeing a sleek black car pulling into the front parking place.

You stood, brushing your hands on your jeans, and headed behind the counter, ready to help the lonely mid-night customer.

You tried not to be too nosy as the man rushed through the door, headed for the refrigerators on the opposite side of the room. You watched as he opened and closed each door, searching frantically for something. You thought briefly of going to help him, but decided that the longer he was here, looking for whatever, the longer you were somewhat entertained.

Finally you heard the man coming back through the aisle to the counter. You only glimpsed him for a minute as he set down two gallons of milk on the counter then turned to go back.

What you did see, you liked – handsome face, dirty blonde hair, bowlegs. You grabbed a couple plastic bags from beneath the counter and started ringing up the gallons of milk when he was back – two more gallons placed on the counter.

It was then that you realized that the man was panting, somewhat sweaty and moving as quickly as possible. Trying to accommodate, you kept ringing, assuming that he was in a hurry.

Two more gallons were placed on the counter, and he stayed this time. You finished ringing the six gallons of milk, and gave him the total.

He was distracted, looking toward his car.

“Sir, are you alright?” you asked, bringing his attention back to you. 

He slapped a $20 down on the counter, and you quickly got him his change. You watched as he tried to balance the six gallons of milk, failing.

“Want help?” you offered, and he sighed, seemingly defeated. He nodded, grabbing three gallons and walking out the door.

As quickly as possible, you moved around the counter and balanced the other three gallons, following the man outside. Trying to make conversation, you spoke. “So why six gallons of milk?”

The man popped the trunk, shooting you a devilishly handsome grin. “To kill a monster, of course.” When you reached the trunk, your eyes widened as you saw what was inside: a man, tied and gagged, laying on his side on top of a big blue tarp.

“Wha-?” you started, but you were silenced as your customer opened two gallons, dumping the milk onto the man in the trunk. Instantly he started smoking, screaming against his gag.

“Come on, don’t just stare, sweetheart,” you were told, and for whatever reason, you opened one of your gallons of milk, placing the other two on the ground.

You tipped the milk over above the guy’s feet, and watched as he smoked and began shriveling in front of your eyes. You poured slower than your customer-friend, who quickly emptied the other gallons.

Finally, the milk was empty and the man who had been tied and gagged in the trunk was completely gone.

You were standing, shell-shocked, next to the handsome customer who had just made this the most memorable work shift of your life.

“So,” he said, slamming the trunk closed. “Care for a drink, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help but nod, not in the least bit interested in finishing your shift at the Gas n Sip, now just wanting to spend time with this mystery man with the milk and find out _what the hell_ you just got yourself into.


End file.
